


Anniversary Dinner

by TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy



Series: The Odd Job [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Blow Job, Dinner, Glasses kink, Johncroft, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 08:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4385714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Mycroft's anniversary dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Someone sometime send me a "John cooks dinner for Mycroft" prompt on Tumblr. I can't find who it was, and it took me forever to fill, but here we go.
> 
> Set (obviously) one year after the end of 'The Odd Job'. You don't have to read it to understand this short story, but I'd be happy if you did! :)

It was a quiet and relaxed night at 221b Baker Street. Sherlock wandered around the room with bare feet, dressed in a simple white shirt and suit trousers. He had his violin in hand and played seemingly random, gentle tones in harmony with the flickering flames in the fireplace. You could almost call the atmosphere serene.

John loved these nights. Everything seemed alright with the world when he and Sherlock stayed in and just enjoyed each others company. It was something he would never ever wanted to miss again. But tonight he didn’t just relax into the music but busied himself in the kitchen.

For once, he had gotten Sherlock to actually clean up at least part of the kitchen and put away his science equipment. John had taken care of the rest and was now preparing a big dinner, for it was a big night. The night of Mycroft’s and his anniversary - the day they had confessed their love for each other. It had had not been an easy day, not for them and especially not for Sherlock. Not half as romantic as one would think. But they had put that behind them. And during the last year Sherlock had surprised them both.

It had turned out that he was totally fine with John and his older brother being in a relationship, as long as the doctor would continue to be his flatmate, friend and conductor of light. And John couldn’t leave Sherlock if his life depended on it. Even Mycroft had to admit that those two were made to share each others life - which made him even more grateful for the love he received from John. It was probably a weird situation if you looked at it from the outside, but what was normal when the Holmes brothers were involved, anyway?

“That smells nice,” Sherlock said and popped his head over John’s shoulder to see what the doctor was currently frying in a pan. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man and embraced him while the other continued to work on the meal. After Sherlock had more or less also confessed his love for John, they had started to share their personal spaces much, much more freely. It was a little strange for John at first, but he quickly learned that Sherlock wanted nothing more than physical affirmation of John’s presence to calm his mind, and he was willing to go along.

“It’s supposed to be a curry later,” John shrugged. He threw some more ingredients into the pan and stirred. Sherlock hummed and closed his eyes, enjoying the smell of the food and John’s closeness. This must be what happiness feels like, he thought and a small smile formed on his lips.

A knock on the door ripped the two men from their thoughts.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Sherlock didn’t have to turn around to know who that low voice belonged to - and for a fact neither did John.

“I am the one interrupting, brother,” he detective said and squeezed the small man in his arms once before letting go. “But don’t worry, I have plans for tonight, so I won’t be troubling you much longer.”

“You do?” John turned around to face Sherlock. “You know there’s enough food for you.”

The detective smiled. “I know. But even a socially inept person like me sees that it’s not my evening, and I won’t intrude on your anniversary dinner. Don’t make that face John...”

“Kind of you, brother mine,” Mycroft said, not without betraying the depth of gratitude he felt towards Sherlock. The consulting detective picked up on that immediately and turned around to face his brother. No more words were needed, and after they looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, both nodded in unison and Sherlock stepped out of the kitchen.

Mycroft just wanted to put down his umbrella as a hand appeared behind him from the hallway and reached into the pocket of his jacket. Sherlock retrieved a little black box and threw it onto the kitchen table without looking.

“If this is any indication, I’ll be returning late.”

Mycroft jumped a little and tried to get to the box before John did, but the doctor’s reflexes were faster. He picked up the box, opened it and grinned - just seconds before Mycroft snatched it from his hands again.

“So, Sherlock knows?”

Mycroft sighed and let his shoulders slump a little. He felt like he should feel some sort of embarrassment, but what was the point, really? He put the box back on top of the table and inclined his head a little.

“Of course he does. He is Sherlock,” Mycroft watched John as the other man opened up the box again and ran a finger along the black frames contained in it. He picked up the glasses and attempted to put them on Mycroft’s face, but the older Holmes shook his head.

“Worried I’ll jump you?” John laughed.

“Oh, no, my dear John,” Mycroft grinned. “I was rather betting on that. No, these are for you. They would not fit me. Mine are in the other pocket.”

“For me?”

Mycroft closed the gap between them with one step, their bodies now pressing together. He let his hand glide down the doctor’s arm to the hand, which held the glasses, and relished in the way John leaned into his touch. Carefully taking the frames from his partner’s hand, he raised them up and put them in place. His hand remained on John’s cheek for a moment, cupping it gently while the doctor rubbed his face into it like a cat. Mycroft took a step back to admire the view.

John nervously licked his lips. “Do they fit me?”

“You have no idea,” Mycroft chuckled.

“And here I was thinking I was the only one with a weird kink.”

“Oh, but you were,” the government official smirked. “Your unhealthy obsession made me really curious about the appeal. So I thought I would perform a little experiment of my own.”

“Looking forward to the report,” John grabbed Mycroft’s tie and pulled him in for a kiss. From the other man’s reaction he could already deduce that the experiment’s result would be very favourable - especially because he found himself pinned to a wall within seconds.

Mycroft had grabbed John’s wrists and held them securely above his head against the wall. A knee found his way between the doctor’s legs as they explored each other’s mouths. As the taller man backed off a little, both were already out of breath, staring into each other’s eyes with clear intentions. But then John laughed.

“One would think we’re teenagers,” he said.

“You certainly make me feel a lot younger, my dear,” Mycroft smiled. “But I agree. Let us postpone this to later. We would not want to let your curry go to waste, now would we?”

“No, definitely not,” John nodded. “And one of us is still missing a very important piece of accessory.”

While the doctor occupied himself with the pots and pans again, Mycroft relieved himself of his coat and smoothed down his suit before reaching into the other coat pocket. He chuckled quietly to himself as he put on the glasses and ran a hand through his hair. John was still engrossed in preparing the food, so the he took the moment to let his eyes wander about the smaller man’s form from head to toe - lingering on his bottom for just a few moments longer than anywhere else.

Cautiously he all but tiptoed over and placed his hands on John’s shoulders. The other man hummed contently as he felt his lover tracing the lines of his back. His skin tingled when he felt the fingertips running up and down the skin of his arms, dropping his head a little. Mycroft took his chance and leaned in, tongue tracing a line up John’s neck before he gently bit down on the sensitive skin. John immediately let out a needy moan and dropped back against his lover, head pressing against the shoulder.

“The curry does not stir itself, my dear,” Mycroft’s voice was a low rumble as he whispered into the doctor’s ear. He took John’s hand in his and helped him pick up the dropped spoon to stir the ingredients.

“Ugh, you’re a fucking tease,” John pressed his back more closely against Mycroft.

“And you love it.”

“God help me, I do,” John sighed. “Now let me get this done and I’ll join you for whatever it is you have in mind.”

“Whatever? I will keep you to that,” Mycroft pressed a kiss to the smaller man’s cheek and backed off. “You have not looked at me yet, though.”

“I know that I probably won’t be able to control myself once I do, and I am really looking forward to that curry, so I’ll have to at least get to the point that says ‘simmer for 20 minutes’,” John said and added a lot of coconut milk to the veggies in the big pot.

Mycroft watched John measuring and adding spices and chillies to the mix. “Hm, yellow curry. My favourite,” he remarked.

“You’re welcome,” John chuckled. “Alright, I’m done for now. This has to stew for a while.”

The doctor listened to the sounds of his partner walking to the sitting room and turned around as the footsteps stopped. Mycroft had placed himself in John’s chair, hands on the armrests. As he heard the owner of the chair approach, he patted his lap invitingly without turning around.

“What? Am I your cat?” John laughed.

“Only if you want to be, John.”

“Hm… it does have a certain appeal,” John still grinned and closed his eyes. Mycroft hadn’t worn the glasses for him in a while and he wanted to savour every moment of anticipation. He cautiously stepped around his chair, feeling rather than seeing his way and straddled Mycroft’s lap. Their combined weight made them sink into the soft fabric and John leaned over his partner, hands on each side of his head on top of the backrest. He brought their faces together and rubbed his nose over Mycroft’s, still without opening his eyes.

“Meow.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t sound too bad, I guess,” John buried his head into Mycroft’s neck and started to nibble at the other man’s skin. “You would bring me gifts and take care of me for my whole life. Cuddle with me. I would purr for you all day.”

“You are not a cat, John. If anything, you are a dog. Strong and independent, but loyal to your master.”

John giggled and backed off a little with his head. “If you’re the master, I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he whispered, more to himself, but of course Mycroft had heard it.

He heard the fabric of Mycroft’s suit jacket as the other man moved his arm, but was unprepared for the touch of rough fingers along his lips. John’s tongue darted out to lick at the fingertips, which caused a hitch in the taller man’s breathing.

“Look at me, John,” Mycroft said in the low tone of voice, which he knew to go right between John’s legs.

John complied and slowly opened his eyes. If Mycroft’s voice had already excited him, the picture, which presented itself to the doctor now helped to make his clothes feel even tighter. Something in the back of his mind still marveled at the fact that such a small accessory could have such a profound impact on him. But the thought of Mycroft indulging him in this way and making John the only person in the world who could see him like this tugged at something in his heart and made him smile against the other man’s fingers.

He gently sucked at Mycroft’s fingertips while he busied his own with tracing the frames - which had become something of a small ritual, every time the glasses were present. He was not surprised when Mycroft mimicked his motion and traced John’s frames in the same way.

“There’s something oddly attractive in seeing you wearing these, my dear,” Mycroft said quietly. “Though I must confess that they don’t seem to have the same, strong effect on me.”

"Too bad."

"Don't worry, I am more than capable to ravish you tonight, even without the effect."

"Oh yes, ravish me," John purred and grinned at Mycroft’s choice of words. "I am all yours."

A hand found its way between John's legs and stroked his cock through the fabric. He groaned and pressed into the touch, feeling the heat of Mycroft's skin even through the barrier. Mycroft let his other hand wander up into the doctor's hair and grabbed at it, pulling the head back to reveal John's throat. As he applied his lips to the sensitive skin of John's jugular, the smaller man hissed and bucked a little, but the hand in his hair kept him steady.

As he felt his hair being pulled, an intense spark of pleasure ran through John's body and he let his body relax completely into Mycroft’s touch.

"As flattered as I am about your reaction, I really need you in a state where we can still have dinner in seventeen minutes."

"Have you been counting the minutes? How romantic," John actually dared to stick out his tongue at the British government.

He didn't receive a verbal response, but found himself in the position of having his hair pulled back even harder and wrists restrained behind his back within seconds. Mycroft leaned in and put his mouth right next to John's ear.

"If you don't want me to act in your best interest, how about you act in mine instead?" he whispered into the doctor's ear in a low baritone, which had John shiver and utter a sound close to a whimper. "I know exactly how we can use the... sixteen minutes and twelve seconds we have left."

John pressed his lower body into Mycroft's in a grinding motion, which elicited a moan from both men instantly.

"On the floor, on your knees, now."

Mycroft released John, who in turn readily sank to his knees between Mycroft's legs. Neither of them was the submissive type, and they didn't really play that much, but depending on the mood one would indulge the other with pleasure. Usually they performed that power-play longer, but they hadn't seen each other for over a week and the need for action was definitely bigger than everything else. John placed his hand on the bulge in Mycroft's crotch and rubbed over the whole length, grinning - not quite given up his teasing yet.

"What can I do for you, sir?" he said with a smile in his voice.

"Why, demonstrate the appeal of these glasses while you suck me, of course," Mycroft raised an eyebrow to underline the challenge in his words.

John placed his mouth over the cloth erection and sucked a few times through the cloth, leaving wet stains on the expensive fabric. Some well-practiced actions later, he had freed Mycroft's cock. Not losing any time, he put one hand to work and drew the skin back in one swift motion. Mycroft threw back his head and let out a deep and needy moan at John's action. The doctor smirked. The fact that he was on his knees didn't mean that Mycroft was completely in charge - but that little reminder would be enough for now.

Before Mycroft could turn his eyes back down, John had positioned himself slightly lower, so that he could apply his tongue to the underside of the now prominent erection. As soon as their eyes met, he licked a long stripe along the length from bottom to top.

"Uhh..." Mycroft groaned. "I'm starting to see the appeal, my dear."

"Already? But have barely started, love."

"I can't really judge the whole picture just from one action, can I? I think we need more data for that..."

John grinned at the sentence, which could've come directly from Sherlock's mouth, but instead of commenting on that he started lightly sucking on the head of Mycroft's cock, playing with his tongue. Recovering from the initial outburst, Mycroft now seemed a lot more collected. He had his head resting on one hand, watching John with an outwards very cool demeanour, which he adopted just to show who of the two is in control of the situation. But the smaller man knew exactly what signs to look out for. A minimal hitch in breathing, expanded pupils and tense muscles betrayed Mycroft's inner state - and teasing another reaction out of the auburn haired man was one of John's favourite games.

But tonight, Mycroft held up to John's teasing for only about two minutes until he dropped his hands to the doctor's head and grabbed his hair forcefully. John smiled around the straining cock and let his jaw fall open. Soon, Mycroft was all but fucking John's face, loud, but also some muffled moans filling the otherwise quiet living room.

When Mycroft was close, he pulled out. John grinned and positioned himself just before the taller man came across his face, lips... and glasses. While Mycroft was catching his breath, he slumped back into the chair to admire the view.

John was still kneeling in front of him, clothes ruffled, erection clearly visible under his trousers. His mouth hang open to draw deep breaths, lips swollen and pink from use, spit running down. His face was stained, cum running over the glasses down over his cheeks. He grinned at Mycroft and licked his lips clean, and damn, if that vision wasn't enough to make him hard all over again.

"I believe it's time to set the table," John smiled.

"I... hah... yes, I believe so, too," Mycroft huffed.

They stared at each other for a few moments, Mycroft's cock still half hard, hanging out of his trousers, John totally dirty on the floor.

Then they both grinned and started laughing loudly. John raised and offered Mycroft a hand, so they could clean themselves up and enjoy their anniversary dinner.


End file.
